


Itchy

by hazzahandsome



Category: One Direction (Band), Union J (Band)
Genre: (right?), Alternate Universe, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 14:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazzahandsome/pseuds/hazzahandsome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry worried, he got clingy in a way that he found unattractive and unintentionally invasive. But, he honestly meant the best from his prying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Itchy

"How are you doing, Georgie?" Harry mumbled lowly - face shoved as against the face of his cell, as possible.

He let his eyes wander around, taking in everything happening in the dressing room. _Chaos_ , was the best way to describe it. But, chaos was sort-of his and The Boys normal routine. Comfortable but uncomfortable atmosphere that had become second nature. The room was fun and busy and _public_ , which wouldn’t do at all. Lou danced a brush over the plains of Niall’s face and tried not to take physical action every time he twitched to pay more attention than necessary to the notes Paul was dueling out to awaiting ears. Liam was tugging off a t-shirt he’d been wearing for two or so days. One that Harry was fairly certain was his, but they’d long passed getting upset about that sort-of thing. Especially when he knew he nicked the other’s clothing here and there, as well. Normally Harry would be doubling over with laughter at the story Louis was hollering above all other voices, whether Zayn wanted to listen or not. But not now. Not when he needed George. To talk to George. To see if he was alright. “Hmmm? How are _things_?"

"Yeah, they’re alright," came a tired voice from a million trillion miles away.

"Are they?" Harry didn’t want to press more than wanted. Of course, if George had _his_ way, Harry would never say anything. He’d leave the boy to figure things out on his own. Rely on his _own_ band mates, perhaps. Harry turned away from the others (who weren’t paying him any mind, anyway) and towards a vacant corner - save a few boxes of hairspray that Lou had yet to unpack. He tucked further within himself, and whispered quieter. Not everyone needed to know, even if they already knew as much. “Have you been eating?"

"…Harry."

"You can tell me," Harry sighed in his specific George Way. A way that said ‘You know I’m upset - but I’m not _upset_ ’. And George _knew_ that. He did. He’d told Harry that he’d understood.

He could hear George shuffling in whatever seat he’d acquired and the sound of two people arguing over something, in the background. If Harry strained his ears, it would probably be about whatever radio station they were listening to. It would probably be Jaymi and JJ. And George would probably be rolling his eyes, but smiling fondly. They, Union J, were much like His Boys in that aspect. But he didn’t strain his ears. He kept his focus, all of his focus, on the boy he actually wanted to speak to. Not that he disliked the other members of Union J. Harry didn’t tend to dislike anybody, unless they did something drastic to change his mind. But, sometimes he didn’t think they were taking proper care of George. And that was a ridiculous thought, because he _knew_ they were. In his head. He knew. _Josh_ , especially, wouldn’t let things get too bad. He’d seen that for himself - the concern in the boys’ eyes whenever George got overtly stressed about something.

And then they’d spoken about it.

Harry had asked Josh to keep watch of George, while One Direction started the European leg of their tour. To make sure to give him cuddles and keep him happy. And Josh had responded with an easy but studied smile and simply reminded that _technically_ their boys had Loved George first and knew his tells. But he’d said it with kind eyes and nodded his reassurance to Harry’s worried ones.

Harry knew, in his head, in the _smart_ areas of his body, that they’d notice if George was turning a little foggy. Letting the things he was self conscious of eat him away to pieces. But in places like his heart, where he ached to get to see his boy again, he worried and wanted to help.

He didn’t like leaving George.

Not that George was some gigantic disaster of a person that couldn’t take care of himself. He was older than Harry, even if he didn’t always look like it. And he was stronger than Harry sometimes gave him credit for.

But he didn’t do it on purpose.

The Boys finished their leg of the UK and Ireland, and got to spend some short time off before they kicked off again. And Harry chose to spend that with George. What little time he had, before he had to jet away to L.A. (a place he genuinely enjoyed) to make up some studio time. So.. not as much GeorgeTime as he would of preferred.

And he got… itchy, when he was gone for too long. Not being able to see his boy. Not being able to bury his nose in the crook of his neck and mutter about how _amazing_ Union J were going to do and ‘stop worrying it’ll be fine’.

When Harry worried, he got clingy in a way that he found unattractive and unintentionally invasive. But, he honestly meant the best from his prying.

When George worried, he stopped eating. He twitched. He faded into a weird form of himself.

Josh had called Harry the day prior. They’d been on the bus at the time, fading in and out of decent service. But, Harry had gotten the jist. George was in a funk and he didn’t want to talk about it. Harry swore he wouldn’t pry. He swore he’d let George work it out himself, with himself, and his band, and the people actually near bye.

Not some useless lump in _Denmark_ who couldn’t actually help if he tried.

Zayn had rolled his head around from his position on the couch in the back lounge, where they were watching the others play a video game that didn’t look like it made any logical sense, after he’d told Josh goodbye and hung up his phone. “George not eating?" he had asked tiredly, because he knew. _Of course_ he knew. They all knew everything about each other - even the most uncomfortable. So, Harry’s sort-of sometimes boyfriend (they _were_ dating, they _were_ exclusive, they were just _weird_ as well) dealing with the newfound stress of the entertainment industry piled on top of a lifetime of insecurities was not something His Boys weren’t aware of. “I’ll give it a few days, yeah?" Harry had responded, a question on his lips. And Zayn knew that Harry wanted to be the type of person who helped the right amount, so he nodded in agreement and promised to remind him to call. Even though both of them knew he wouldn’t forget.

"I know I can," George’s low tone spoke into his ear - soft and warm and trusting. “It’s fine, really… I’m just…"

"The single’s going to do great. It **_is_** doing great," Harry looked back to Paul staring annoyingly at him, but still speaking to the others. Harry just waved the booklet he’d been passed earlier, haphazardly, trying to wordlessly indicate that he’d _read_ what was being addressed. And Louis wasn’t paying attention, either. And he was pretty sure Zayn had fallen asleep. It was fine. “I don’t know the presale numbers, but there’s _no way_ they’re bad."

As his sentences slowly flowed off his tongue, Harry listened for any indication that the words were bouncing off of George, being tossed aside on the floor and forgotten. "… We want it to do well."

"It _will_. The video was great, you looked _really_ fit. And _all_ of you sounded perfect."

"Even JJ?" George giggled a little reluctantly. And _yes_. Giggles were good. Giggles were happy. And Happy looked better on George than anyone else.

JJ may of ‘done something drastic’ once or twice in Harry’s eyes. Little quips here and there that Harry strongly disagreed with. But, he was mostly harmless. Harry rolled his eyes playfully and tried not to smile, “Yeah even JJ."

He listened and imagined George swirling around in his chair, because there was a strange sound of _wind_ \- and he was pretty sure they were inside. “You must of really loved it, then. If you even liked JJ."

And he knew George was teasing him, because he’d made the mistake of mentioning this almost unjustified mistrust of the fourth member, once before. But teasing meant George was lightening from the hard tone he’d had earlier and that’s what he wanted. Harry shoved the booklet under the armpit of the arm holding the phone to his ear, and used the other hand to run fingers through the hair Lou had just gotten done fixing up. She was going to kill him. “It’s fine to worry. But, I just don’t want you over worrying."

"I’m _not_."

Harry shook his head, then. Because Josh wouldn’t of called for no reason. He wouldn’t of called if he didn’t get through on his own. The pair of them weren’t exactly friends. They were friendly, but they didn’t hang out unless George would be there, too. “What have you eaten in the past few days? Can you tell me?"

"I had… _Harry_."

George’s following sigh filled his ears and washed over his senses, “You don’t have to… you know that. I just… want to _help_ , if I can."

"Well, phone calls are good. I like those."

He closed his eyes and leant forward, his forehead coming into contact with the cool of the white brick wall. It felt good when everything else felt so tense. “I like them, too," he cooed and cringed at how Gone he sounded.

George seemed to respond well enough, though. “I had a piece of Josh’s sandwich two or three days ago… and Jaymi gave me some carrots for yesterday lunch."

"Is that it?"

He could practically hear George’s frown, “I’ve not been hungry."

“ _Harry! Will you please join the rest of the class?_ " Paul called out and tapped three (precisely three) times at the surface of the watch hooked around his wrist. Harry froze his form in unintentional defiance, but he could hear a quiet voice in the form of an awakened Zayn mumble, " _He’s talking to_ ** _George_** _, Paul. Give him a second, yeah?_ ”

Harry really loved Zayn. “Do me a favor Georgie, okay?" he spoke as quickly as he could - just in case Paul really did call Times Up. George hummed him forward. “Will you eat something substantial, for me, today? A whole sandwich. Or maybe a can of soup. Just _something_ so I don’t spend this whole show trying to figure out how I can get back to London without Paul noticing that I left in the middle of Rock Me."

Silence filled the other end of the line, and Harry waited as patiently as he could manage for his sort-of sometimes boyfriend to respond. George started to speak then, but not to Harry, his voice pulled away from the phone. After a minute of listening to a hushed conversation, Harry perked when George brought himself back. “I’m going to get lunch with Josh, when we hang up. I’ll get something filling," he informed quietly but determined. " _Denmark_ , then?"

The grateful smile stretched across the length of his face and he let out a small huffed laugh that was loud enough to be heard in the room in London, “Are you keeping tabs on me?"

George’s self-conscious giggle secured the smile on Harry’s face. “I don’t do it on purpose," George gave a small whine. “I just get… itchy."

"Yeah," Harry hummed fondly - worries, for now, set to the side. “Yeah, I know the feeling."

**Author's Note:**

> As with most things I'm posting, I wrote this months and months ago. More specifically, two months. And I had also written it in ten minutes, so.... I also hadn't bothered to look up time differences and such, so the phone call might not make sense? But, again, ten minutes.


End file.
